


The Worst Part

by bramblePatch



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Past Life Issues, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:19:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bramblePatch/pseuds/bramblePatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nah," he says, still drowsy enough that the flippancy comes a little too easily, and pulls her down again into the crook of his arm. "Good dream. You were in it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Part

He wakes with a start, and takes a moment to remember where he is. When he is? He's not really sure Alternian has the proper adverb for the situation. Once he's regained his bearings, he kind of wishes he hadn't.

She shifts beside him, throwing a lean arm, cool in comparison to his mutant heat, across his chest to draw him closer. Physical comfort in lieu of the chemical ease of sopor, which they can so rarely afford to safely purchase in any great quantities.

(The funny thing is, even when they believe him, most people would never guess what the worst part is. It's not the friends who are now enemies - although it is hard, _so_ hard, to look at the imperial propaganda and see, looking back at him from behind the tyrant's eyes, the girl who had so feared responsibility that she'd fled the planet. Perhaps Meenah had known herself better than they'd believed.)

He slowly cards fingers thorough long, unruly hair, and his companion, his Disciple, murmurs against his shoulder, the sound half a purr. After a long moment, she opens one eye, and takes in the thoughtful, slightly melancholy look on his face. "Hey, you ok?" she asks, pushing herself up on one elbow to get a better look at him. "Bad dream?"

(And the worst part isn't the friends who he can't find, who, if the differences in age between the ones he _has_ identified are any indication, might not emerge from the trials for decades, or centuries - although there are times when he half-expects to be able to turn and see Aranea there, ready to offer gentle council when a situation defies any amount of good intentions he can throw at it.)

"Nah," he says, still drowsy enough that the flippancy comes a little too easily, and pulls her down again into the crook of his arm. She snuggles in, and tightens her grip on him a little in return. He smiles. "Good dream. You were in it."

(The worst part -)

"Oh?" she says, and gives him a knowing look, running her tongue delicately over her pointed teeth.

He laughs, and lightly flicks a finger against the tip of one of her horns. "Not that kind of dream, silly," he chides. "It was a memory. Wasn't just you in it, there were a bunch of us at some kind of street-fair... there was a game, throwing balls at a target to win prizes, and one of the prizes was this big toy purrbeast."

When he glances at her, she's got that kind of far-away look on her face, the one that means that she's gathering up every little detail to write down later. He smiles. "I kept borrowing money off of the Scorpio girl to try and win it for you. Eventually you got fed up and took a try yourself, and won it on the first try."

She laughs, and swats him lightly on the chest. "Of course I did."

"Then you gave it to me and spent the rest of the night making me tell people you'd won it for me."

(The worst part is looking at the friends - the family - he's managed to find again, in this crazy, messed-up lifetime - )

She sighs, and nods, resting her head against his shoulder again. "Sounds about right," she says. "And you keep saying things have changed."

( - and knowing that he'll probably never see them that happy, that carefree, again.)


End file.
